The Burden of Regret
by mabelreid
Summary: One shot...Sometimes the most difficult thing we can do is let go and leave others to live there own lives.


**_Disclaimer: see my profile_**

**_A/n this is a follow-up to "So Long," but I feel it can be read on it's own. Please enjoy._**

Rain, the last thing she wanted to see out of her window, was rain sheeting down from roiling, pewter skies. Well, it was better than staring around her new apartment or flat as they were called here in the UK. There wasn't anything else she could do on this dismal Sunday, just one day away from starting her new job as head of the London Interpol office.

She looked over at the coffee table where she'd left the brand new box of stationary she'd bought three days after arriving here. She'd dithered around for another three days, but now she knew she had to write this letter as she promised.

She opened the inward folding blinds, wincing as they squeaked. The window fought against, her but she managed to yank it open with a loud screech. The volume from the rain increased by ten, but it fell straight, rather than into the room, so she kept it open.

Maybe, if she didn't think too much about this particular letter, the words would just flow. There was so much to say, but she just didn't know where to begin.

She took in a breath of ozone from the storm, went back to her couch, and curled up in one corner. The stationary sat on the table and mocked her with its blank pages that just waited to be filled with something, anything at all.

Her pen lay next to the box of paper, looking forlorn and lonely without anything to do. It was meant for writing and to just lie there, was to be at cross-purposes of its use.

_Ridiculous, inanimate objects can't feel. Stop stalling and just write the letter. _

She picked up the pen, inhaled more of the ozone-tainted air, and put pen to the paper. She fancied she could see a cursor just blinking at her because she couldn't figure what to say. How do you write what's in your heart? How do you say it in a letter and believe that the recipient will understand the spirit in which it was intended?

_If he's mad, at least you won't have to see him every day. He'll just fade away and you'll know._

Somehow, knowing that didn't make her feel any better, but it gave her the courage to pick up the pen and begin to write all the things she should have told him when they were face to face.

"Dear Reid,"

She scratched out the greeting and crumpled up the paper. She tossed it to the table, and it bounced off to the carpet.

"Dear Spencer, "she began again, pressing firmly on the paper.

"_I've been trying to think of how to begin this letter for three days. I wanted to just jump in and tell you all about how I love London. I wanted to say that I'm glad to be back and it was the best decision of my life. I couldn't do it though, because it's not great here. It can't be great because you're not here. I really miss you, more than I thought I would when I agreed to take this job. I thought that if I walked away from my old life, that I'd find some semblance of peace, instead I just feel this restlessness inside. I can't stop thinking about my friends, my family, and you. _

_I know what you're thinking as you read this, that I need to give it time. I don't want to give it time because I realized the moment I stepped on the plane that I was making a big mistake. All I wanted to do was get away because I hurt all of you so badly, but most of all I hurt you, Spencer. I'm so sorry, I know I never sat down with you and made you believe it, but I am so desperately sorry for hurting you. I can only hope that one day you'll truly forgive me. _

_You see, I realized soon after I got back that I love you, and not just as a member of our little BAU family. I finally saw you for what you are, a kind, gentle, and exciting man, someone I wanted to get to know intimately. It didn't take long for me to see that it was too late, Spencer. You'd closed off to me because I'd betrayed you in the worst possible way. I only wanted to keep you safe, but in the end, I made your life hell. For that, I truly am sorry. I'll always care deeply for you. If you ever need me, I'll always be here for you._

_All my love,_

_Emily_

She read over the letter, and realized that she couldn't send it. It was the epitome of selfish to consider it, she knew that now. It was better just to let the past lie in the dust of regret because it was so far past too late, it was nearly laughable.

She tore the letter into pieces so small, no one would be able to reconstruct them, not even a certain genius with eyes the color of melted, milk chocolate, the hands of a sculptor and the soul of a poet. He was finally healing, she'd seen it in his eyes at JJ's wedding. What right did she have to screw that up for him out of her own selfish desires?

Sergio hurried into the room and jumped up on the couch. He swished his tail at her and meowed loudly. Emily reached over and scratched his head. "I wish I were a cat sometimes. You don't have to deal with complex human issues that drive you crazy."

Sergio climbed into her lap and curled up. She stroked a hand down his back as she bit her lip hard. No tears, she refused to give in to them, no matter how tough it got for her in the next days. She was the daughter of a diplomat. She'd handle it.

"And the first step to handling it, is writing a letter, full of how great my life is here."

Sergio stared up at her out of dark eyes. She almost flinched under his gaze then remembered that he was the cat and she was the human.

"Don't look at me like that. I have to lie because I care about him. It's not right to disrupt his life. He's thousands of miles away anyway. We have to be sensible."

Sergio meowed at her, jumped down onto the floor and left the room with his tail in the air. "Fine, be that way," she yelled after him.

Well, stalling time was over, she picked up her pen and began again_. "Dear Reid," _

_Hey there genius, I was thinking about you all and wondering how you're doing. It's great here. The sun's out and you can see all the way to the Millennium Wheel from here. It's been quite the weekend, with the Queen's Jubilee…"_

She continued in the same light for three pages. It was a missive full of hope and good news, but it was a lie. It was a necessary lie, but still a lie.

When the letter was signed, sealed and addressed, she left it on the small table next to the door for the next morning and the post office. Soon it would be winging its way across the Atlantic Ocean back to the States and her promise to him would be kept, for now at least.

Perhaps Reid was right, that it was better for her to let old friends and family just drift away into the past. At least, it wouldn't hurt so much if she did, and Reid would be better off too.


End file.
